


Felizitas

by Philosophizes



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Bigender Character, Genderqueer Character, Genderqueer North Italy is important to me, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2014-01-21
Packaged: 2018-01-09 12:31:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1146016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Philosophizes/pseuds/Philosophizes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little bit of undercover work to bust some organized crime has Italy asking Germany on a date to a fancy party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Felizitas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [budgeridoo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/budgeridoo/gifts).



There was a certain saunter Feliciano got sometimes that told Ludwig to expect heels and eye shadow in the near future. It was the way his hips swayed and the placement and point of his feet; the set of his shoulders and the way his fingers trailed along Ludwig’s arm and jaw.

“What aren’t you telling me?” he asked finally, after a week of watching all the little differences he’d memorized now, all the little things no one else knew to look for because no one else _knew._ Feliciano was across the room, fussing with the living room bookshelves, adding in some books they hadn’t shelved yet from Christmas last week and rearranging the record collection.

Feliciano glanced over his shoulder at Ludwig, smiling a little at the scrutinizing look the man in the leather recliner was giving him.

He batted his eyelashes.

“Alfred sent me an _invitation,_ ” Feliciano said, voice containing a hint of sing-song on the last word.

Ludwig raised an eyebrow.

“Oh? Christmas is over.” This was more than a little rude, and rather disconcerting to boot. He and Feliciano had been invited _together_ to everything for decades now. It was just understood that, where one of them was, so was the other. “He doesn’t do Epiphany-”

“Do you remember Aurelio Bellini?”

Ludwig did, and failed to see what that had to do with this conversation.

“ _‘The Man Who Cheated the Mafias’_ ,” he said, using the title the newspapers had given the man who’d enticed major criminal underworld players from three different countries into a scheme and subsequently absconded with all the money. “Yes.”

“Sooooo…” Feliciano said, spinning around to face Ludwig from the rug. “The FBI found him! He’s in New York City hiding out with _their_ Mafia because America’s Mafia _sucks._ I wish Lovino and I had it. Anyway they want his money and they think they can rebuild some of the stuff they used to have with that, and the FBI can’t get to him where he is now, _but_ he’s going to be at the opening of this fancy nightclub on Saturday with a bunch of other scum so the FBI was going to do a bust but it was complicated or something I don’t know anyway Alfred got in on it and asked if he could invite me and Lovino along too and the FBI realized that they could send Alfred and _fratello_ and I and keep some agents out of it _and_ we make great back up _and_ it’s easier than getting all diplomatic with other countries because if the Nations are there then it’s automatically an international thing and we can provide oversight and stuff so Alfred invited me and Lovino and Ukraine and Monaco so we can all get our money back and figure out who was involved in our countries and stuff.”

Ludwig processed that.

“So Lovino’s taking Monaco and Alfred’s taking Ukraine and I need a date,” Feliciano concluded belatedly.

_There_ we go. That’s why it mattered.

“And you’re going as Felizitas Vitali to throw off Aurelio,” Ludwig said as Feliciano and sauntered- yes, that was a saunter, he was _absolutely_ right about this- over to the chair and sat himself down in his lap. “Because Aurelio had dealings with the Mafia, so he knows Romano and Sicily hunt _mafiosi_. He’ll be suspicious if two Italian men show up unexpectedly, because he’ll think it’s the Mafia or Romano with one of the brothers he’s heard about. But an Italian man and an unrelated Italian woman who clearly isn’t Sicily won’t make him nervous- that’s a coincidence.”

Feliciano draped his arms over the back of the chair and pulled himself chest-to-chest with Ludwig and gave him a light kiss on the nose.

“Mmm, close,” he said, eyes dancing. “There’s going to be one Italian man with his fancy date, and one _German_ woman- _hopefully_ with her husband.”

“Well, if you insist,” Ludwig said, unable to keep himself from smiling.

* * *

Feliciano knew about fashion things like peplum dresses and ruffles and beading and necklines and bunching and colors and tight waists and delicate jewelry to make curves where there sort-of were but really weren’t.

Ludwig knew they existed and a little how they worked, because he’d asked Feliciano sometime in the 60s, when he’d first found Felizitas’s dress and makeup stash, how you could do it without looking stupid. He knew he wouldn’t be able to do it himself or tell others specifically how to, but he could pass the information on.

_‘Do you want to?’_ Feliciano had asked in the 70s, when he noticed Ludwig staring when Felizitas went out. He’d come along a few times after he’d gotten a terrified call about an attack from the drag queen friends his partner had made- they saw the similarities and the easy acceptance they were given immediately, even if Feli rarely got up on stage and never showed up with the intention to perform- just _be_.

_‘No,’_ he’d said immediately. He’d met some very nice men and women in the drag queens, but that was not and would never be him.

Feliciano had looked him up and down.

_‘I could do it,’_ he pronounced finally. _‘But you’d be **horrible** at it.’_

Regardless, Ludwig now had a secret mental stash of fashion tips, tricks, and terms that he could give out hand-in-hand with the best romance novels written since the 1920s. If he chose never to share that information, well, it was no one else’s business.

Feliciano had claimed about a third of the old armoire-and-trunk combination Ludwig had eventually been sheepishly convinced to use for storing the sex supplies and various sex-and-romance books instead of hiding everything under the bed for Felizitas’s things. It was easier and less nerve-wracking than keeping it as his house in Venice, especially since Felizitas happened in Berlin; and sometimes Bonn and Munich and Vienna and Stuttgart. Germany’s Chancellors wouldn’t give a shit if they found out their Nation had a stash of _‘woman’s clothes’_. Italy’s Prime Ministers _would_.

So this was a bit of an expedition for them.

Feliciano had pulled all the dresses out and decided, after looking everything over and trying a few things on and switching accessories around, that there was nothing in the armoire that was classy enough for the opening of the Citrus Lounge. After looking it up online and seeing pictures of the interior, Ludwig agreed. If they were both going to wear suits, this wouldn’t be a problem; but since they weren’t, it was.

They needed a high-class evening gown.

So Feliciano disappeared and in an hour or two Felizitas turned up in the living room in the most obviously-expensive of her business pantsuits and heels, accessories impeccably matched.

“I need to go shopping,” she said, and she was so clearly trying to hide her nervousness that Ludwig took a moment to take her hand and kiss it before telling her that if she’d find wherever Gilbert had hidden the keys to his car, he’d go put something nicer on.

Her smile was beautiful, even if it was a little wobbly.

“I was going to do it in Milan-”

“I can do that,” Ludwig promised.

He drove them mostly on back road, ignoring the Autobahn so he could safely collapse distance with the car the same way he would while walking, until the Alps. Ludwig let space pass normally there, and Felizitas put on some German rock and turned it up loud.

He held her hand until they were close enough to the end of the mountains for Ludwig to feel comfortable skipping portions of the road again. They arrived in the outskirts of Milan a couple hours after leaving Berlin, nearly a third of the time it would have taken otherwise.

“So, where are we going?” Ludwig asked, turning the music down low.

When Felizitas didn’t respond, he looked over. She was making herself small in the seat.

“Feli,” he said gently. “Where do you want to buy your dress?”

They had money enough for everywhere, and while Ludwig would have known where to go to get Feliciano a suit, he didn’t know where Felizitas would get a dress.

“Um…” she said quietly. “Versace?”

“Tell me how to get there.”

* * *

It turned out there were _three_ Versace stores in Milan, or so Felizitas told him. They went to the largest one, right in the middle of the city. They had to park some ways away, and they just sat for a bit, Ludwig letting Felizitas steel herself. She was scared to get out- what if people _knew?_ There were people in Berlin who knew; but those weren’t her own people, or anyone she had to work with, or people they didn’t know the reactions of.

Felizitas had barely ever existed outside of the German gay and lesbian bar scene.

“I’m right here,” Ludwig told her quietly. “I’ll make sure you’re fine.”

They did get out of the car eventually, Ludwig exiting first and opening Felizitas’s door for her. The hand he offered got her to smile a little.

“Romantic,” she said quietly as Ludwig pressed the lock button on the car remote and put an arm around her waist. He kissed the top of her hair and as they walked towards the store, she slowly moved away, forcing a little more confidence on herself.

Ludwig let his arm fall away and held her hand. She pressed up against him.

“There is no one here who will not love you,” he told her quietly in German. “You are their Nation. Can’t you feel them?”

It was a little bit a lie, but it was enough for now. Felizitas took a moment before walking into the store to push her sunglass up on top of her head, and reached for confidence from her people. She walked in alone as Ludwig held the door.

She was greeted immediately by a store employee, who smiled pleasantly and asked: “Can we assist you today, ma’am?”

Felizitas fingered her hair and glanced over at Ludwig before softly replying: “I need an evening gown?”

The helpful store woman showed them the dresses and Felizitas picked a few out to take a closer look at. Ludwig hung around nearby, wondering how anybody could think up _this_ many different ways to make what, ultimately, came down to the same piece of clothing.

“Ludwig?” she asked, and held two up over her body, one after the other.

“The black and white?”

It was long-sleeved, black on top with a slanted squared neckline higher than you usually found on the runway or red carpets. No cleavage. It was high and tight with gold banding from abdomen through waist, which he was pretty sure was supposed to be a good thing. The cloth faded through gray to white in the- he was seriously thinking the word diaphanous- diaphanous layered skirt.

Felizitas spent a couple more moments looking at it and then hung the rest of the dresses up.

They were almost to the counter when Ludwig took it from her.

“Lud-”

“I’m buying it,” he said firmly. “I know how expensive it is- it’s a present. And this way, you don’t have to explain the credit charge to your boss.”

Felizitas looked a little guilty.

“I’ll pay you back-”

“Pay me back by accepting invitations to dinner at expensive restaurants.”

Felizitas snorted a little.

“Ro _mantiiiiiic,_ ” she mocked lovingly.

Ludwig smiled a little.

“Of course.”

* * *

They went to America on Friday with Lovino and Monaco and stayed at Alfred’s house. Ukraine was there when they arrived, and had timed dinner perfectly.

“So, you two are going together?” Monaco asked over dinner.

“I wouldn’t go with anyone else, Claudia,” Feliciano said, a little severely.

“Uh, you sure that’s gonna to _work?_ ” Alfred asked, clearly trying to be tactful. “With, the, uh, _gay_ and all?”

Lovino made a noise into his drink. He’d recognized the bag Feliciano had taken for his carry-on as his makeup container.

“They’ll be fine,” Ukraine said. She was one of the few Nations besides Ludwig and Lovino who knew- Feliciano had helped her be Konstyantyn instead of Kateryna a few times.

“Well o _kay,_ ” Alfred said doubtfully.

Saturday morning saw them all briefed on the actual mission and the FBI agents who would be making the actual arrest- if things went wrong, it was their job to keep Aurelio and some of the American Mafia members who’d be in attendance from escaping while _Alfred_ made the arrests. There was a quick quiz on the aliases- Livio Romagna and Claudia Genovese, who was new money in the gambling industry; Al Jones and Katherine Zelenko, lawyer and pharmaceuticals respectively; and Ludwig and Felizitas von Brandt, the married couple in the antique books and publishing trade. There was just enough information out there that anyone who felt the need to be socially sneaky and make a quick search on their smartphone would come up with a few hits for things they said they were associated with to _look_ credible, without actually naming them anywhere.

“You two are _married?_ ” Alfred asked incredulously over lunch. “What’s Feli gonna do, put on a _dress_ and just waltz in there?”

“It’s a lot more complicated than that,” Ukraine told him sternly.

* * *

Feliciano and Ludwig spent the afternoon in Alfred’s guest room, cuddling.

“This is going to be really stressful,” Feliciano muttered into Ludwig’s chest. “I’m already feeling bad.”

“You could get dressed early,” Ludwig suggested.

“I’d get it messed up,” he said, but sounded reluctant. He _needed_ to be Felizitas.

Fortunately, Ludwig had planned for this. He moved most of the way off the bed, ignoring Feliciano’s protests, and grabbed his carry-on. He lifted it to the bed and opened it, showing Feliciano the contents.

_“Ludwig!”_ he said happily, and started looking through Felizitas’s casual clothes that Ludwig had grabbed. “Why-”

“Feliciano and Felizitas don’t change that easily,” Ludwig said. “Felizitas was here earlier this week, and I’m pretty sure everyone has just been calling her Feliciano this whole time.”

His love smiled at him and admitted: “You’re probably right.”

Ludwig picked her up and she clung to him and laughed while he carried her to the bathroom, grabbing the clothes she’d taken out of his bag on the way. He locked the door behind them.

“Let me,” he said, taking Felizitas’s hands as she reached for the buttons on her shirt.

She dropped her hands, and he carefully popped the buttons and slid the shirt off her shoulders. He folded it neatly, and started emptying the bag.

“That one,” Felizitas said, pointing to a tartan bra. Ludwig picked it and slid the straps up her arms, and got the wire hooks fastened in a couple tries.

“Do you-” he started to ask.

“I’ll get them,” she said. “Find the underwear?”

When he’d found the matching underwear, Felizitas had slipped her breastforms into the bra. Ludwig picked up a ruffled white blouse he thought she might like and showed it to her. She nodded, and he put that on over the bra and buttoned it up; pausing a moment to feel her heart beat under his hand.

Felizitas put her hand over his and kissed him. She stuck her hands in his hair to pull him closer while Ludwig finished the top buttons on her blouse and undid her pants. She stepped out of them and kicked them aside before Ludwig could move away to pick them up.

She broke the kiss and hugged him tightly, burying her face in his hollow of his throat.

“You’re _amazing,_ ” Felizitas told him. “Amazing and wonderful and kind and beautiful and patient and sweet and understanding and I love you _so so much_ _thank you._ ”

“I couldn’t be anything but that for you, Feli,” Ludwig said. “And I never want to change that. I- are you crying?”

_“Yeah.”_

“Hey, hey-”

Felizitas held his hands in place on her cheeks, keeping him close.

“You’re perfect,” she said. “Really, _really_ perfect and I’m so glad I have you, _tesoro mio_.”

Ludwig gave her a small smile.

“ _Spatzi_.”

Felizitas smiled back and ducked her head, bumping against Ludwig’s chest again. He held her loosely.

“I can keep saying it Ludwig but words aren’t really enough for everything _it’s_ just and _you’re_ just and it’s _so much_ and I need another way to thank you-”

She thought of the bag suddenly glanced at it.

“Hey Ludwig?”

“Yes?”

Felizitas looked up at him through her eyelashes.

“Did you pack any kink stuff?”

Ludwig went very, very red.

“N-no,” he stuttered.

She smiled languidly at him and turned around in his arms, bumping her hips against his.

“When we get back to Berlin, then,” Felizitas said lightly, and heard Ludwig moan quietly into her hair. She slipped her boxers off.

“Where’s the underwear, Ludwig?” she asked coyly. “You still haven’t finished dressing me.”

Ludwig groped around until he found the tiny tight tartan briefs that matched Felizitas’s bra, the other hand traveling from her hip to her stomach, rubbing small circles for a moment. Then he dropped down on his knees in front of her and held the briefs open while Felizitas stepped into them, and he used the opportunity to slide his hands slowly up her legs, pulling the fabric with him.

Felizitas trembled a little, and grabbed his head when left her underwear hanging low on her hips and kissed her stomach. She pushed him away unhappily and quickly tucked her penis under and pulled her briefs up the rest of the way.

And then they never actually got to putting pants on her, because Felizitas sat down in Ludwig’s lap immediately and he leaned back against the side of the tub and held her hips and stroked the naked skin just above the elastic of her underwear with his thumbs; and Felizitas took his face in her hands and kissed him thoroughly.

* * *

The Citrus Lounge didn’t have any security, which seemed strange to Ludwig. They had all these Mafia people and no one was checking anything besides if you had an invitation?

But he went with it, and kept his eyes on Felizitas, who was still preening from Alfred and Claudia’s shocked looks when she’d shown up in Alfred’s foyer in her dress, Ludwig escorting her.

_“Duuuuuuude,”_ was about all Alfred had managed to say before settling for something that looked a lot like awe and close enough to jealousy that Ludwig felt a little pride, as well. His Feli was stunning.

The Nations were integrating as best they could, letting others do the talking while they stood and listened. Lovino occupied himself with food and joined Claudia and some other men in trading gambling stories. Further off, Alfred got into a spirited debate about the Constitution while Kateryna just listened and talked gardening.

Ludwig decided to seize the moment- when else would he get to have Felizitas at a fancy party? Or, for that matter, Feliciano, even. All the formal functions they attended were work-related; and diplomacy and fear kept them within acceptable social boundaries. Feliciano could bend them fairly far- he was touchy, everyone knew that- but there were lines neither of them had dared to approach yet. It was hard to trust when a few simple words from a Chancellor or Prime Minister could force you to ‘behave’.

Maybe someday they could. But not now.

So Ludwig took Felizitas’s hand- this wasn’t _strictly_ polite, you were only supposed to give a hand kiss if they lady offered but, well, this was his lover- and kissed it gently, bowing over it slightly in the way he thought he remembered from the few court balls he’d actually been to as the German Empire and had clearer memories of from period movies, making sure to keep eye contact.

“May I have the honor of this dance?”

Felizitas actually blushed a little at that, yes, that was definitely a reason for pride. Ludwig led her out onto the floor for a slow dance.

“You’re going to make everyone else jealous of your manners,” Feli murmured.

“I’m certain everyone else is jealous of your grace.”

She smiled up at him, eyes twinkling.

“Your looks.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Your fashion sense.”

“Your height.”

“Your knowledge.”

“Your dancing.”

“Your laugh.”

“Your courage.”

“Your strength.”

Feli looked ready to blush again, and was certainly looking up at him in adoration. It made Ludwig’s stomach flutter.

“How deeply you love,” Feli told him.

He was smiling stupidly, he _had_ to be.

“How intensely you care,” Ludwig said back.

* * *

When it came, the actual bust went relatively well.

Alfred relayed some information out to the waiting FBI agents, and then discreetly came around and reminded everybody about their positions to take. Ludwig and Felizitas drifted towards the back server’s exit, looking to all the party exactly like the sappy couple they, honestly, actually were tonight.

When the FBI agents came in from the front and the kitchen entrance, a lot of the party panicked and froze or tried to bolt. The few who tried the server’s exit were firmly deterred by Ludwig and Felizitas showing their issued guns.

Everything broke up within the hour and the Nations- minus Alfred, still sorting things out with his law enforcement agencies- slipped away. The five of them had absolutely no idea what to do in New York besides the restaurants and bars they frequented when on UN business, but none of them were classy enough for what they were dressed as. They ended up finding a late-night water tour of New York and paid what might have been a rather exorbitant amount of money for the ride since _technically_ they were closing up for the night; but the extra money meant three hours of relative silence and privacy, watching the lights of the city glow in the darkness and reflect off the lapping water.

Ludwig sat with an arm around Felizitas, his love cradled against his side as they listened to each other breath; warm together in the cold night.


End file.
